When I lost my job for the second time unexpectedly, I had more to lose than ever. When I was laid off for the first time, I was living in an apartment in a town I never wanted to be in. It was pretty easy to pack the very few items I had accumulated in life to get out of there. 

That wasn’t the case the second time I got the “we’re letting you go” call. I was a few days from buying a house. I had accumulated furniture I loved and a mortgage. I wondered if I should just walk away before taking the keys. That wasn’t what I did. I had all the faith in the world I’d find another job quickly. 

Like most people, that wasn’t what happened. I found myself waking up every morning and refreshing the list of local jobs only to realize there were no new jobs in my area. I tried to network and do all the things people told me would help me find a job faster. I called friends. I sent messages. I updated my LinkedIn profile. I customized every resume. Still, no bites. 

Finally, I got a call from a competitor to my last company. I had heard of the owner before. He was one of those industry influencer types. They had just opened a marketing position. After applying, I heard back in a matter of hours - not days. I was very qualified for this job, at least on paper. 

After my first phone screen, I could feel that dark haze of worry starting to lift. I knew I was going to get this job and was practicing confidence. That was on the list of things to do to get a job, too. Practice confidence like it’s a layup. *eye roll here*

One of the recommendations for “practicing confidence” was to deeply research the company. Go look at the social profiles of everyone on the team, the organization, etc. so you could communicate confidently about the business. As I went down the rat hole learning everything about the products and people, I landed on the Facebook profile of the person who would be my manager. 

I felt the air go out of the room as I scrolled the posts. I felt dizzy. Almost every post on the page was about donations to anti-LGBT causes. Pictures from their attendance to rallies against gay marriage. With every scroll, I felt all that practiced confidence seep away. I couldn’t work there. There’s no way they would hire me once they saw me. I remember panicking thinking, “I look gay. They’ll know.” I spent my whole life with long, blonde, curly hair. I had cut my hair off just months before and that was one of my big fears when I went from a ponytail to a more masculine cut. What if it stopped me from getting a job? What if it made me unsafe in the bathroom? 

Staring out my kitchen window at the construction workers marching in and out of the house being built next door, I tried to decide what to do next. Should I keep going in the process just to get let down? Should I withdraw and risk going without a paycheck for however many more weeks or months? 

In my daze, I looked down to see that I had missed a call from an old colleague. A voicemail, too. “What’s up Kibben? Heard you’re looking and I have a job for you.” After a very quick series of interviews (thank God for former recruiters who don’t believe in 12 week hiring processes), I got an offer that took me back into the unexpected destinations of the worlds of HR and recruiting. That’s where I’ve been ever since. 

I know how lucky I am. The fact that I had friends who knew I was qualified and were hiring is a privilege in itself. Every day since then, I’ve worked really hard to change the odds. I want to make sure no one ever has to question if they can get hired when they’re qualified for the job - whether it’s through sessions about pronouns, inclusive hiring, or bias in job posts. 

I’m telling you that story today not to shame that company or person. I want to remind those of you struggling to imagine what’s next in your career (queer or not) that unexpected destinations can change your life for the better. If there’s anything I’ve learned through the tumultuous moments, it’s that you never end up where you don’t belong. Unexpected destinations may be unexpected, but if it seems shitty now, it’s a building block toward something better. After all, there’s nowhere to go but up when you’re sitting at rock bottom. 

I know it doesn’t feel that way when you’re in the middle of the shit. But one day (hopefully some day soon), I hope you can see that everything that happened was meant to be. That unexpected destinations can be more beautiful than you imagined. 

Happy Pride.